


The Man From the Moon

by Apocalyptic_Scenes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, Gen, alternate beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-05
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-03-16 10:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3485633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apocalyptic_Scenes/pseuds/Apocalyptic_Scenes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up in a pine box after four years in Hell. Who is there to greet him when he finally gets topside? Deviation of Season 4, Episode 1: Lazarus Rising</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man From the Moon

The pain was unbearable. Every inch on Dean Winchester's body felt like it was on fire, he writhed making every attempt he could to free himself from the hell he could never have imagined. Agreeing to be Alistair's bitch was a step in the wrong direction, not only did Dean continue to suffer physical pain but now he had the added joy of emotional trauma. Angry and frustrated, his soul blackening, Dean lost all control, yelling manically into nothingness, his already hoarse voice struggling to create more than a whisper.

And then, his world was black and Dean was still. His mind raced with possibilities, if he had learnt one thing in all his years spent in the pit it was that it was impossible to die; equally impossible to pass out. Any reprieve from the torturous life downstairs was unattainable until your soul was black, devoid of anything resembling humanity. But as far as he could tell he was still very human, the pain he still felt, physically and emotionally was testament to that. He opened his eyes and was again faced with nothingness. He felt his breath ricochet off something near his face the air that returned bearing a certain earthly sent. No he definitely wasn't in the pit anymore. Fumbling he felt for his pockets, out of habit, looking for a weapon, anything to get him out of here or at the very least inform him of his situation. Amazingly he found his clothing to be intact and his old lighter still sitting in a jeans pocket. Pulling it out he prayed for a miracle and flicked. The little object sprang to life and illuminated the space around him revealing his new prison of cheap decaying pine and rusty nails. He grunted, struck by the irony of the situation, 'a coffin,' he thought, 'I'm in my own bloody coffin!' And that was all it took for claustrophobia to take hold.

"Help!" He screamed. The voice that had been hoarse from overuse was now hoarse from complete lack of it and his throat burned from the sudden powerful demand. Dean didn't care, he wanted out. He continued to scream and proceeded to bang on the wood above his head. Despite the weakness that now possessed Dean's muscles it did not take long before the old wood fractured sending a small wave of dirt into the coffin. Dean almost laughed at his insane luck and started scrambling at the protruding splinters, willing the box to open at any cost. And, as if God willed it, the lid cracked inwards sending mountains of dirt into the small spaces around Dean. Struggling to find air Dean pushed himself up; fighting to fit his body through the small hole he had created. He was exhausted; every fibre of his being felt as if it was on fire and Dean wondered if he was still in the pit. Despite all this his pushed on hoping against hope that what lay on the other side of this hole was better than his previous location.

He couldn't breathe, dirt surrounded him, pushing harder against his body with every move he made. He was suffocating and for a wild moment he feared that this was the end that he was headed right back to Hell and then, with his arms raised above him he felt it. His hands no longer covered with dirt, warmth touched his fingertips and what could have been the slightest of breezes played across his palm. Relief surged through him, arming him with renewed hope and, fighting with all he had left, Dean continued his fight. He coughed a sigh of relief and the largest of smiles played over his lips as his head broke through the surface of the Earth that had become his grave.

He squinted, the harsh natural light abnormally bight after the years he had spent in darkness. With his legs still underground he collapsed, resorting to a slow commando crawl to free the rest of his body. It felt like eternity but eventually he was out and with eyes closed he rolled over. Spread eagled in the weeds Dean Winchester basked in what was Earth. A cool breeze wove its way through his hair and sunlight warmed his face. He listened, waiting to hear signs of life, signs that he was indeed on Earth but nothing, not even a fly, disturbed the air around him. His heart sank as the realisation set it. No sound meant no life. Something was wrong.

"Dean Winchester?" Asked a confused voice in front of him.

Dean sat bolt upright. It hadn't even occurred to him that something must have dragged him up. People didn't just get let out of the pit after all. He struggled to see where the voice was coming from, the sunlight still too harsh, hampered his vision and his sudden movements put him off balance

"Dean Winchester?" Came the voice again.

"Yes. Who the hell are you?" Dean demanded. His vision was slowly returning and he could just make out the form of a man, kneeling at his feet, head cocked to the side.

"I am Castiel, Angel of the Lord." Said the voice bluntly.

"You're what?" Dean scoffed now able to see the man before him with the strangest of looks on his face, as if he had never seen another man up close before.

"I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord, I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition." Stated the man named Castiel.

"Yeah, Angel and since when did pigs start to fly?" He retorted, "Now who the Hell are you?"

The man looked even more confused, "The exclamation that pigs can fly is an anatomical impossibility. I am unaware of such occurrence. You are Dean Winchester are you not?"

"No! I'm the man from the freakin' moon!"

"There must have been some mistake." Said the man and he was gone leaving Dean Winchester sitting atop his grave, dazed and confused.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written in response to a challenge posted on deviantART by blackbirdrose in light of the new Supernatural anime that is coming out. Her challenge was to introduce Castiel in a different way to how they did it in the series. When I read this I couldn't help but think of one of her 'castoons' "I raised you..." http://blackbirdrose.deviantart.com/art/Castoon-I-Raised-You-177367388 please take a look, an explanation here would not do it justice.
> 
> Thanks for reading, reviews and their respective composers are awesome! :)
> 
> First published: January 2011


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